


Bonfire Silhouette

by Solrosfalt



Category: Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Dancing, F/F, Marisa is gay for Tethys, Me? Writing things from the GBA games? It's more likely than you think, Music, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 11:24:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16639061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solrosfalt/pseuds/Solrosfalt
Summary: Marisa only dances with a sword in hand, and that practice is not a partnered dance for long.That doesn't change the way her heart aches, though.





	Bonfire Silhouette

It hurts to love from afar.

Marisa is a shadow by the bonfire, and she watches the outline of shawls and hair as they whip about in a wild and seemingly random performance.

Tethys couldn't have planned this one. No, her planned dances are mesmerizing and calculated. This had been a spur of the moment choice.

A bard, well-acquainted with the bagpipes, had passed them by as they raised camp outside his town. Convinced by many cheers (and the presence of many royals helped, no doubt) he had stopped by their bonfire to play.

The bard had chosen a mighty and speedy song, more chaos and noise than Marisa usually prefers, but accompanied by Tethys’ wide open smile and twirling movements, anything sounds amazing.

Marisa never articulates her deeper thoughts. Not out of any sense of superiority or the like, her feelings are simply not important. They are locked between two dull blades, to keep her thoughts in a perfect line.

She does undoubtedly feel things, though. In Tethys case, far too much.

 

As she watches Tethys' mouth open wide in the sort of excitement only expressed in impromptu dance, Marisa's heart aches, and tears push their way forth into her eyes.

There is so much beauty in another person’s unapologetic joy, so much beauty in the way music turns to dance. That, combined with everything _Tethys_ , 'beauty' is no longer a strong enough word.

 

The bonfire roars, glows in her brown skin. Her hair is loose, a glorious fan. The tips bounce around her shoulders, like thousands of individual dancers joining her in rhythm.

Tethys spins and stops, alone before the bard and the fire. The music continues, and Tethys pulls at the hands of one of the comfortably safe in the audience. It is a part of her show, so it comes off as elegant and professional, but Marisa can tell that she _wants_ this. She wants them to join her, to become a part of her world of thrumming heartbeats and shawls.

The hands belong to L'Arachel, an exasperated and blushing princess. For once, the princess is a little bit lost for words. Tethys locks her arm into hers as they spin around and around. Tethys is a whirlwind of laughter and L'Arachel tries to keep her dignified and polite smile.

But even she is laughing a little at the surprise, and she ultimately allows herself to be caught in the music, led by the goddess of dance.

 

Marisa's heart aches even more, her tears run over. The scene before her blurs into figures of fire and light.

It isn't that Marisa necessarily wants to be there with them. Marisa only dances with a sword in hand, and that practice is not a partnered dance for long. Marisa doesn't want to sully this overwhelming wonder.

She's not ashamed, her sword and skills are mere facts, and she's proud to have them. She realizes that her place isn’t beside such life, and that’s fine. Her tears come from how wondrous Tethys becomes in the firelight. There's too much to love, it’s almost making her feel ill.

A group of kids from the town has assembled by the bonfire. Tethys lets go of L'Arachel and instead she bends down and joins her hands with theirs. Tethys smiles more gently now. As she notices a small boy standing by the edge or the ring, and she invites him in with a hand, a soft urge in her wave.

 _’Come, don't be shy_.’

They spin around in a small ring, and Tethys makes silly baby steps as to not pull at the kids’ arms too hard, and she laughs along with their excited squeals and giggles. Meanwhile, L'Aracahel brushes off her garb with a courtly nod, and seems intent on returning to the comfort of the watching crowd, but is interrupted by the princess of Renais, who takes her hand and pulls her in to the mad dance again.

Marisa envies Eirika's courage. But at the same time, she doesn’t. She's watching, that is her place.

But it hurts to love from afar.

**Author's Note:**

> This is 100 % inspired by the impromptu dancers at the medieval fairs I've attended. Because HECK that stuff is so overwhelmingly wonderful I just sit there teary-eyed and this year I had to write down my feelings onto my phone or I'd explode emotionally.
> 
> @ anyone who's ever stood up as a band is playing during a free show at fairs just to respectfully invite complete strangers to dance, I hope you are having fantastic lives and I thank you for spreading so much joy. I'm sorry I'm too shy to join you.
> 
> Anyway @ anyone who reads this, thanks for reading, you rock, have a great day!


End file.
